


ceux qui rêvent

by eirvosol



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, F/F, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, References to Depression, Smoking, Suicide Attempt, jinsol's pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirvosol/pseuds/eirvosol
Summary: "You know I can't live without you, right?"
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul, Jo Haseul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	ceux qui rêvent

**Author's Note:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/621Eu02CDigexgzFitjXzr?si=14Zx7LJcQ5OXR-jadBiWZA

You take a long drag from your cigarette before breathing out. You haven’t smoked in over five years, but things are different now. _Very_ different. Sighing, you look down at the half-burnt cigarette between your fingers. You’ve been smoking nearly two packs every day now. You can practically hear Jungeun's voice in the back of your head.

_ "Hey, Jinsol, you know those things will kill you, right?"  _

_ You scoff before turning to face the blonde. You and Jungeun were sitting on the steps to your college dorm, reflecting after the last party of spring break. It was hosted by a friend of a friend, so you and Jungeun attended out of courtesy.  _

_ "Maybe that's what I'm trying to do," you huff, proceeding to take a drag off your newly lit cigarette. Jungeun scrunches her nose as the smoke blows through the air. “Kill myself off before the world kills me, right?” you say sardonically, instantly regretting your words when you see how Jungeun’s face softens. _

_ You’ve known Jungeun for two years already, but you still hate that look she gives you whenever you say something that reveals some form of vulnerability. Not knowing what to say, you avert your eyes towards the night sky. Her silence speaks louder than words, but despite your discomfort, you force yourself to ignore it. Eventually, Jungeun looks away and directs her attention at the stars as well.  _

_ You pull the cigarette back up to your lips and inhale.  _

_ The feeling of the thick bitter smoke fills your lungs and comforts you. Cigarettes may be a horrible addiction, but at least it creates a constant in your life; The weather isn’t consistent, your schoolwork isn’t consistent, your relationship with your family isn’t consistent, your depression isn’t consistent, and the medication isn’t consistent. But, cigarettes? They’re consistent. So, you’re grateful for them, the consistency, and the comfort they bring to your life. Even if it is slowly killing you, as Jungeun loves to remind you.  _

_ Your arm raises to take another drag. _

_ “I’d be sad if you died, Jinsol.” _

_ Jungeun’s blunt statement lands cold and clear in the warm spring air and your hand stills, the paper of the cigarette grazing your chapped lips. Keeping your gaze on the stars, your mouth opens on impulse, a sharp response on the tip of your tongue. But the raw inflection of her voice, lined with barely-hidden hurt, makes you purse your lips into a guilty, rigid line. Sometimes you forget how much Jungeun cares about you, despite how quick she is to remind you. You sense her move closer to you and feel the pressure when she rests her head on your shoulder. You stay silent and try to accept the tiny extensions of love Jungeun gives you. _

_ “How’s the new medication?” Jungeun asks. You pause for a moment, contemplating how to answer. Jungeun doesn’t push though and for that you’re grateful. Her patience with you is something you’ve always loved.  _

_ “It’s ok,” you finally say, breaking the silence, “But I don’t know how long this one will last.”  _

_ You feel the slight movement on your shoulder as she nods. As you settle back into quiet stillness, you hear the quiet shift of fabric as Jungeun reaches down towards your hand. Her fingers lightly brush the cuff of your jacket and you flinch.  _ Fuck,  _ you think to yourself, scared of how Jungeun might respond. But, she doesn’t say anything as she interlaces your fingers with hers, like it’s only natural. The two of you continue to sit there, her head on your shoulder, and your hands clasped together like a promise. Your heartbeat, thundering loud and fast in your ears, eventually slows at her simple touch. The heat from the lit end of the half-forgotten cigarette feels dangerously close to your skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when it burns less than her skin against yours. Jungeun’s presence is worth more than the temporary relief a pack of cigarettes brings.  _

_ You both sit there until you’ve lost track of the time. Yet, it’s telling when you look down and you realize that your cigarette has long since been extinguished. Closing your eyes, you sigh. You feel Jungeun move slightly on your side, but don’t pay the movement any attention.  _

_ “I love you, Jinsol,” Jungeun says, breaking the silence, “Never forget that.”  _

_ You open your eyes and seeing her genuine, open affection directed unfiltered towards you makes your breath catch for a second. _

_ “I won’t,” you whisper _ _ under your breath, quiet yet strong-- a steel in your words, a vow to her. Jungeun's lips curl upwards at the edges. _

You grimace at the memory _.  _ Stained with hindsight, Jungeun’s smile is bittersweet like she's made peace with something _. _ You drop your cigarette and smash it under your shoe. Thinking of her hurts incredibly, but you manage. After all, she’s always lingering there, never leaving your thoughts. 

You turn your attention away from the smashed cigarette and the old memories that are glazed with new pain towards the apartment building in front of you. Despite the time that has passed, your feet still bring you to this apartment building.  _ Her  _ apartment building. You unintentionally reminisce to how you always came to her apartment a quarter after five to cook dinner and discuss the day. You always seemed to get there a couple minutes late, though, as Jungeun frequently reminded you. As you think about the millions of past visits to her apartment, you feel your hands begin to clench. You release them quickly and grab for your phone from your back pocket. The black lockscreen greets you after pressing the home button and you read the time.

_ 17:25  _

You let out a small chuckle. “It took you dying for me to arrive on time, huh?” you whisper to yourself, before putting your phone away. A lump begins to form in your throat, but you ignore it and quickly proceed to walk towards the entrance to the building. The doors slide open as you approach the entrance and you head towards the elevator. The elevator doesn’t take long to reach you and it’s almost like your body’s on autopilot as you enter and press the button to the 7th floor. 

The elevator slowly rises, the sound of machinery faint in the background. The doors open and you step out. Your feet seem to walk themselves as you approach her apartment. When you’ve stopped in front of her door, your whole body stills. It doesn’t even feel like your heart is beating anymore. You can’t believe it’s already been two months. Two months. Two months since everything went downhill. Two months since Jungeun died. 

An image of Jungeun wrapped up in bandages and lying weak on a hospital bed flashes through your mind and you snap your eyes away from the door. You grip your hands around the walkway railing and lean over the side, looking down at the street. It feels like someone’s wrenching a knife through your chest. Your fingers grip tighter on the railing, but the cold metal doesn’t get rid of the memories flooding through your mind. At the overwhelming feeling of emotions, you frantically grapple for the pack of cigarettes and lighter in your bag. Your hands fumble with the pack, but you manage to pull a cigarette out and place it in between your lips. Your sight seems to blur slightly, but you don’t miss how your hands shake as you light the cigarette. 

The minute the smoke enters your lungs, you feel the lump in your throat intensify for a moment before shrinking. The need to cry is still there, but you push it down. Not here. Not ever. You don’t want to cry again and sink into that deep dark hole. So, you ignore it and continue to inhale the toxic smoke. It’s not as comforting as it used to be all those years ago, but it’s enough to get some dopamine in your body and help you function without breaking down. After all, you stopped taking your medication after Jungeun died. Without Jungeun there helping you and just  _ being there _ , you’ve slowly started to spiral again. You’d never admit it to yourself though. You’re too afraid to confront that you’re not doing well, even if you know it deep down. 

“Why’d you have to leave, Jungeun?” you murmur to yourself, “You know I can’t survive without you, right?” You almost hope someone or something will reply, but nothing does. Obviously. So, instead, you finish your cigarette without turning to face the door again and leave the now cold and unfamiliar building. 

-

“How are you doing, Jinsol-ah?”

You look up from your drink when Haseul speaks. The two of you are at a new Korean place that recently opened near the two of you. It’s quite crowded and the amount of conversations overlapping can come off as overwhelming, but you can still hear Haseul clear as day. Your hand rises and fiddles with the straw to your drink. A diet coke. Jungeun would laugh at you for getting “diet” when you clearly aren’t dieting in other areas. 

“I’m okay, I guess,” you eventually reply, the Korean rolling off your tongue comfortably, “How about you?” 

Haseul looks down at her own drink. Plain water. “As good as I can be, right?” she replies with a thin-lipped smile that looks more like a grimace. You nod in agreement and lift the straw between your fingers up to take a sip. Haseul was Jungeun’s girlfriend before the crash. They’d been dating for over two years. In fact, they’re third year anniversary was two weeks after Jungeun passed. You’ve found that life has a cruel way of making jokes. 

“How’s Sage doing?” you ask. Haseul’s smile still remains small, but forms into something more genuine. Sage is Haseul’s 4-year old dog. A German Shepherd with enough energy to light up the Empire State Building. Jungeun adored Sage and frequently spoiled the little pup with treats and toys galore. “Sage is ok,” Haseul replies, “Still super energetic, but sometimes I hear her whimpering at the front door,” Haseul stills for a moment. She looks up at you and you can see the hurt fresh in her eyes. “She sits there, all pretty like a show dog, waiting with her tail wagging,” Haseul continues and you can hear how her voice cracks a little, “and she just sits there. Sometimes for 5 minutes, sometimes for an hour. She just waits.” As Haseul describes Sage’s behavior, you can see it in your own head, but from multiple months ago when Sage would wait for Jungeun to show up, coming home from her late shifts, treats in hand.

Haseul’s eyes droop again. You can feel your own heart cracking at Haseul’s words so you reach your arm out and grab Haseul’s hand. She doesn’t resist and, in fact, tightens her hand around yours. She takes a deep breath before looking back up at you. Her eyes are red. “Thanks,” she says before letting go of your hand and wiping her eyes. You just nod. You understand what she’s going through. Even without you saying anything, she knows that too. Perhaps even more than most. Despite Haseul being Jungeun’s girlfriend, the two of you were rather close. Maybe not as close as you were to Jungeun, but close enough that she knows what you’ve gone through and how strong you and Jungeun’s relationship was. You think the thing you like most about Haseul is how she never got jealous or questioned you and Jungeun’s relationship. You’re grateful for that because Haseul could’ve easily torn away Jungeun from you, but she didn’t. Along with that, Haseul has always been super sweet and considerate. She’s a great listener and likes to help. She’s determined and gets invested in things very easily. You’ve been caught more than once in her rants about plants, the sky, and God-knows-what. You can tell why Jungeun was so easily infatuated with Haseul, even if it took her months to ask Haseul out.

You watch as Haseul takes a large gulp of her water and sigh. She stares off in the distance before returning her gaze to you. “Do you-” She cuts herself off for a moment, clearly contemplating what she’s about to ask you. You let her take her time and continue to fiddle with your straw. 

“Do you sleep at night?”

You don’t even have to hesitate.

“No.”

Haseul looks back down and sighs again. “Me neither,” she says, “I can’t sleep without thinking of  _ her _ ,” You think back to your own sleepless nights at Haseul’s words. Most nights you lay down in your bed for hours before approaching your tiny apartment balcony with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. On the nights you let yourself fall asleep, your dreams are plagued by Jungeun. Sometimes they’re not so bad. Just filled with memories of your brilliant shining Jungeun. Those nights, you wake up with a painful ache in your chest, but you’re able to get out of bed. Most of the time, however, you see her wrapped up in bandages and syringes back in that damned hospital. All you can hear is the constant sound of flatlining and Haseul’s wails as the life drains from Jungeun’s eyes. On those nights, you wake up screaming and sweating. After those dreams, all you can do is curl up in your bed wishing it was you who died instead. 

Silence fills the space between you two. Eventually, a waiter arrives with your food. Pork bibimbap for you, japchae for Haseul. You both pick up your chopsticks, but eating is slow. Both of you seem incapable of finding an appetite. You find it funny how the two of you are in a crowded and loud area, yet the silence between you is absolutely deafening. You don’t like it. So, you try to start some form of conversation. Anything to get rid of the overpowering quiet.

“How’s the new apartment?” you ask. Haseul looks up at the sound of your voice and thinks for a moment. “It’s alright,” she replies, “It’s a little more expensive, but there’s more space and there’s a park down the street.” You try for a smile when Haseul mentions the park. “Sage must like that,” you say. Haseul smiles a little bit as well. “Yeah, she does,” she replies.

Silence resumes. 

You scramble for something to say by examining everything around you. Looking for something.  _ Anything  _ to say. 

“Jungeun would’ve liked this,”

Fuck. Not  _ that,  _ you fucking idiot. 

Haseul stares at you. Suddenly, she smiles. “Yeah, she would,” Haseul says, “Although, she’d probably be cursing at the amount of college kids here.” That actually makes you laugh. Three years out of college and Jungeun already thought she was above those  _ scoundrels,  _ as she liked to call them. 

“Oh, God, do you remember that time she got drunk as hell after work and started talking like she was a 60-year old woman on crack?” Haseul says, laughing to herself. “How could I forget?” you reply, the memory rushing into your mind and making you chuckle, “She kept trying to remind random people on the street to  _ not forget to do your taxes unless you want to go to hell _ ,” you imitate Jungeun’s middle-aged woman impression, making Haseul snort. After the release of tension, you both keep going back and forth on stories of Jungeun, some you’ve both heard and some you haven’t. By the time the waiter brings the check, you both can’t stop laughing and your meals are surprisingly finished. Calming yourself down, you reach to grab the check, but Haseul snags it before you can. 

“Haseul-ah, please, let me-” you begin to object, but Haseul cuts you off. “No,” Haseul says, “I want to pay,” She slides her credit card in and calls for the waiter to take it before you can do anything. As the waiter walks away, you’re eyebrows knit together in frustration. “Why?” you ask. “Because you’ve helped me a lot these past two months, Jinsol-ah,” she replies, a soft smile displayed across her face. You frown slightly. You’ve barely taken care of yourself the past two months. How could you have helped Haseul? “Talking to you has helped a lot,” Haseul continues, “I just wish I could thank you more for being there for me, even when you have your own stuff to deal with.” 

You bite your lip. You don’t know how to reply to that. Haseul notices, but doesn’t say anything more. The check comes back and you both get up to leave. As you step out of the warm restaurant, the cold New York air hits your face and refreshes you. You instinctively reach towards your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes but a hand wraps around your wrist stopping you. You look in the direction of your wrist and find it’s Haseul that’s stopped you. She looks sympathetic and you hate that look. It’s unfair. You’re both hurting. Why does she need to acknowledge how you’ve been coping? Deep down you know she’s just caring for you, but the former warmth you had has been left behind in the cozy restaurant. The cold hard emotions have returned in its place. Haseul seems to recognize that because she removes her hand from your wrist.

“I’m a phone call away if you ever need me, Jinsol-ah,” she says. The Korean seems strange and unfamiliar now, but you nod. “I’ll see you soon?” she asks, eyes hopeful. She’s switched to English and it seems harsher and colder than your mother language. You can’t seem to open your mouth so you nod again. Haseul smiles, but doesnt leave yet. She seems like she wants to say something else. A moment passes and whatever thought she had does as well. Instead, she says goodbye and turns around, heading down the street. You watch as her figure becomes smaller with distance and finally disappears with a turn. Sighing, you look down. Your hand is still in your bag so you finish the prior action and grab the pack of cigarettes. It doesn’t take long before the cigarette is lit between your lips. You exhale, reflecting on the evening. The reminiscence of the memories of Jungeun was nice in the moment, but now you can feel that terrible ache in your chest. This time, the smoke in your lungs doesn't seem to get rid of the growing lump in your throat. You ignore it though. You turn and head down the street towards your apartment, ignoring the way your eyes sting and your hands tremble.

-

_ Your eyes blink open and bright light shines in them. You groan and rub the sleep out of your eyes. White surface area replaces the blinding light.  _

_ Where are you again?  _

_ Oh, that’s right, the hospital. You look to your left and see her in the hospital bed. Jungeun. You hate seeing her here, syringes attached to her arms and bandages spread across her body. The doctors say she’s not in good condition. They say she’s cracked multiple ribs and even broken one. Despite the terrible condition Jungeun’s in, you’re grateful. _

_ She’s still alive, after all. _

_ You hear a groan come from the hospital bed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Jungeun?” you whisper. This is the first time she’s woken up since she came in, two days ago. She hums and her eyes find their way to you weakly. “Jinsol?” she replies, her voice cracks. You move your chair closer to her and smile. “You’re awake,” you sigh, smiling.  _

_ “What happened?” Jungeun asks you. She seems confused, but you try to fill in the blanks for her. You tell her how she was riding her bike to the market, like she usually does, when a car came out of nowhere and slammed into her and how she went flying across the street. You tell her how the person driving the car didn’t even pay any mind to the fact that they just ran someone over and kept driving. You tell her how Haseul called you, panicked, to tell you what happened and how you raced to the hospital. Jungeun smiles slightly at the mention of Haseul. “Where is she?” Jungeun asks you after you finish. “I sent her back to your guys’ apartment to shower,” you reply, “I couldn’t take her smell anymore,” Jungeun laughs at your joke and it makes you smile. Despite the doctor’s negative comments and attitude, Jungeun’s  _ here. _ She’s alive. She’s okay.  _

_ “Haseul should be back soon, though,” you continue. Jungeun smiles and your heart warms. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you say. “I don’t feel okay,” she chuckles weakly. You roll your eyes at her statement. “Yeah, but you’re alive, loser,” you shoot back at her. “I better be,” Jungeun replies, “You wouldn’t survive a day without me,” Your smile dims a little because there’s truth behind that statement. “Hey,” you say and Jungeun turns her face towards you, “You’re gonna be alright, ok? Don’t try getting rid of us too soon. Sage needs you, after all.” Jungeun grins at that. “Yes ma’am,” She replies. She tries to lift her arm to motion a salute, but a yelp of pain escapes her mouth. You jump up in immediate reaction and press the ‘Call Nurse’ button.  _

_ “Are you ok?” you ask frantically. Jungeun’s face is still contorted in pain, but she tries to force a smile, for your sake. “I’m okay, Jinsol,” she replies, but her voice sounds so weak and strained that there’s no way you believe her, “I just overextended myself.” You look at her hesitantly and nod.  _

_ The nurse arrives quickly and is surprised to see Jungeun awake. She notifies the doctor before doing some basic checkups on Jungeun. She leaves and the doctor comes in. As he tells Jungeun about her terrible condition and what they’re working on doing for her recovery, you hold her hand. You hold her hand so tightly, as if she might disappear if you don’t. She won’t, though, she’s there right next to you and she’s  _ alive  _ and that’s all that matters to you. She grips your hand at an equal pressure as the doctor drops words like “multiple surgeries”, “lucky to be alive”, and “still at high risk.”  _

_ Even though she’s right next to you, you’re so scared you’re going to lose Jungeun. After her being there for you for so long, you can’t imagine not having her there. You love her and you  _ can’t  _ lose her. Your love is not to be confused with the type of love Haseul has for her. It’s as strong and passionate as the former, but you could never imagine having any type of romantic notion with Jungeun. Sure, you may have entertained it when you were much younger and more naive, but you’ve grown older and more mature and you recognize Jungeun as your closest friend. You’d even consider her like a sister, but you know you two are much closer than that. If anything, you’d consider her your soulmate. You know her like the back of your hand and she’s always been there for you, whether you like it or not. She understands you more than anyone. You don’t know what you’d do without her.  _

_ The doctor eventually leaves the room, filling the air with thick tension that seems to swallow you whole. You both know how close Jungeun was to dying and how close she still is. The teetering silence is broken by the sound of the door opening again. Haseul walks in and immediately a huge smile appears on her face. “Jungeun!” she exclaims and bounds forward to the bed. “Hi, baby,” Jungeun replies, love laced in her voice as she turns to face the short-haired girl. You smile and stand up, letting go of Jungeun’s hand. “Well, I’ll leave you two love birds alone,” you announce before walking to the door. The two acknowledge you before looking back at each other, obviously grateful to be back in each other’s live company.  _

_ You walk out the door heading down the hallway towards where you remembered seeing a vending machine. You eventually find it and buy yourself a Snickers to settle the slight grumble in your stomach. There’s a chair next to the vending machine and you flop yourself onto it, Snickers in hand. As you begin to rip into the packaging, the overhead lights begin to flicker. You furrow your eyebrows. Suddenly, darkness surrounds you. _

_ You jump out of the seat and fumble for the wall. It’s pitch black and the previous commotion of the hospital has turned into dead silence. “Hello?” you call out, panicked, “Haseul? Jungeun?” You begin to step forward carefully. Suddenly, a scream erupts from further down the hall. It’s Haseul. You start to sprint forward, but find there’s no floor ahead of you causing you to fall forward. Shouting as you fall into nothingness, the sound of Haseul’s scream fills your ears as well as a monotone beep. What is that? You can’t quite tell, but the sounds continue as you fall through darkness.  _

_ Until you land. You feel yourself slam onto the familiar tile floor of the hospital and your surroundings light up again. You recognize a hospital bed in front of you and quickly stand up. Jungeun’s in the bed, just like you left her, but her eyes are closed. Did she fall back asleep? What happened? You hear Haseul scream again, but it’s more like a cry of pain. The sound comes from your left and you look over to see Haseul bent over sobbing. “What the- Haseul, what’s wrong?” You reach for Haseul instinctively, but that beeping noise starts up again and distracts you. You look up. It’s coming from the monitor. The dots all connect.  _

_ “Jungeun?” You try to call, but it comes out as a strangled whisper. You ignore Haseul’s continuing wails and quickly walk to the side of the hospital bed. “Jungeun?” you repeat, your eyes blurring. You reach down to touch her still hand, but immediately flinch away upon contact. Her hand is cold as ice. Your hand snaps up to your mouth and horror. You don’t hold back the sobs as you feel warm tears tear down your face. “Jungeun,  _ no _!” you cry. Why her? Why her? WHY HER? You want to scream it into the air, but you can barely breathe. _

_ “ _ It should’ve been you. _ ” _

_ You’re breath stutters at the cold dark voice and you look up to see Haseul standing ominously straight, her tears gone. “W-what?” you try to ask, but your voice catches in your throat.  _

_ “ _ You should’ve died instead, _ ” Haseul shouts, her voice not like the soft familiarness you know like the back of your hand. “This isn’t real,” you whisper to yourself. You shut your eyes and try to force yourself to wake up, but Haseul’s voice only gets louder. _

_ YOU SHOULD’VE DIED INSTEAD. _

_ NOT HER. _

_ JUNGEUN DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE. _

_ YOU DID. _

_ WHY DIDN’T YOU DIE INSTEAD? _

_ MAYBE IF YOU DIED, SHE’D STILL BE HERE. _

You scream.

Your eyes slam open and you find darkness surrounding you. You scream again as you scramble for any sort of surface area. That’s when you feel the bed covers spread around you. You’re awake. “It’s not real,” you whisper to yourself as you try to calm your frantic heart down. Except it  _ is  _ real. 

Jungeun’s still dead.

Those dark words still exist in your head. 

You sit up and put your face in your hands, trying to rub the terror out of your system. Sweat covers your body, but you ignore it. Instead, you get out of your bed and walk across the room to your kitchen. You would curl back up and try to ignore your pulsating fear, but you feel a wave of exhaustion overcome you and it scares you out of bed. Trying to calm your frayed nerves, you fill your kettle up with water and turn it on before looking at the stove clock. 

_ 4:13 _

You sigh as you grab a mug and an instant coffee package out of one of the kitchen cabinets. Staring blankly into darkness, you wait impatiently for the water to reach a boiling point. When you hear the telltale click of the kettle finishing, you dump the instant coffee powder into your mug and follow with the hot water. With a pack of cigarettes in one hand and the coffee in the other, you walk out towards the balcony.

The only light that comes from outside is from the street. The world is silent at this time. Despite that, you lean on the balcony rail with your coffee and a freshly lit cigarette. You take a sip of the coffee and wince as it burns your tongue. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself and exchange the lip of the coffee mug for the cigarette. 

As you stare out at the empty street, you think back to your dream. It felt so real just like the many other similar nightmares you’ve had in the past. You can still hear those haunting screams bounding through your head, those cynical words spinning like a broken record. You know you shouldn’t believe them. It’s selfish and unreasonable of you to believe your taunting thoughts, but a small part of you can’t stop feeding it to your brain. You try not to, but you agree with it. That you should’ve been the one to die, not Jungeun. 

You scoff at your own degrading thoughts and bring the burning cigarette up to your raw lips. Even if you had died, it wouldn’t have kept Jungeun from the brink of death. 

Yet, the logical reasoning still doesn’t keep you from the idea of your own death.

With Jungeun gone, there’s honestly no one really holding you back anymore.

You inhale from your cigarette one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> huge thank you to bianca and stevie for beta-ing and helping me write this!!
> 
> hello friends!  
> this little fic has been stuck in my docs for nearly five months now and i finally finished revising and tying up the first chapter. i've put a lot of my heart into this so i really hope you all enjoy!!!  
> little clarification: jungeun and jinsol do not have a romantic relationship in this fic, despite how close they are!  
> also, we'll be meeting sooyoung in the next chapter so look forward to that!!! the next chapter should be released in 2-3 weeks (as long as i don't procrastinate lol)  
> love you all! be safe and enjoy!!
> 
> \- sylvie  
> tumblr & twitter: eirvosol
> 
> p.s. there's a link in the beginning notes for a spotify playlist i made for this fic!!


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